The Detective, His Blogger and Two Unsuspecting Alchemists
by Amestria
Summary: A collection of short stories detailing Sherlock and John's adventures with Ed and Al when the detective and his blogger somehow end up in the world of Amestris. AU, and rated T for language. Randomness will ensue.
1. Amestris? What?

**A/N: ****Just to clarify, the first two chapters of this fanfic will have a slight plot to show how Sherlock and John wound up in Amestris and why, but after chapter three it'll just be a series of short stories about their adventures with Ed and Al with no connection with each other whatsoever :) This is set in Series 1 in the Sherlock universe, and the end of Brotherhood in the FMA universe, so Al has his body back. And because this is fanfiction, Ed has visited Germany once.**

**I do not own BBC Sherlock or Fullmetal Alchemist, they are owned by Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and Hiromu Arakawa, respectively.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"John, come over here."

The army doctor looked up from his laptop. "What's wrong?"

"Just come over here. I found something."

John lifted himself up from his comfortable armchair and went to the kitchen. Sherlock was kneeling on the kitchen floor.

"Look at this."

John knelt beside Sherlock. There was a weird circle on the floor, large, and with a number of strange shapes around its circumference. It looked as if it had been drawn with white chalk. Several annotations had also been drawn – hastily, by the looks of it – around the shapes.

"What is it?" John breathed.

"I don't know," Sherlock answered uncertainly, "but I suppose we could always find out."

The detective swept to his feet and walked around the circle, occasionally prodding at the shapes with the tip of his foot. John stared at him in confusion; what good would prodding the shapes do?

After about thirty seconds, John became aware of a peculiar static sound in the background. He looked around, noticing that Sherlock was doing the same.

"Sherlock, what's that n-"

John didn't get to finish his sentence: a blinding white light flashed before him. He gasped, Sherlock's vice like fingers closed upon his wrists, and then... nothing.

* * *

"Edward Elric, what have you done to my automail?!" Winry fumed, wrench in hand.

Both Ed and Al shrank further against the wall.

"Um..." Edward started nervously, "well, I sort of... got into a fight... with Colonel Mustang..."

"And _why _exactly did you get into a fight?" Winry asked frostily.

Before he could mumble a half-hearted _''he called me short again''_, there was a flash of brilliant white light, and a scream. Ed and Al both jumped back defensively, and Winry gasped.

Out of the light came tumbling two men.

The first of the men was tall, jealously tall. At least six feet. He has curly black hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a long black coat, a white shirt and a navy blue scarf. The other man was nearly a head shorter, which Ed felt grateful for. He was a blonde, and wore a jumper and jeans. Casual clothing. It was he who spoke first.

"Well, Sherlock," he said, sighing, "this isn't 221B."

"No, I think I figured that out for myself, John." the man called Sherlock replied drily. He turned his gaze on Ed, Al and Winry instead, as if scanning them.

After what seemed like an eternity passed, but was in reality only a couple of minutes, Winry had the sense to ask who the two men were.

"Well," the shorter man said cautiously, "I'm John Watson, and this is my friend and flatmate, Sherlock Holmes. Pleased to meet you." He extended his hand, which she shook.

"So, um, who are you?"

* * *

"I'm Winry Rockbell," the girl said cheerily. "These two are Edward and Alphonse, though they prefer Ed and Al."

Al smiled at them, while Ed merely nodded.

"You've been through a lot." Sherlock spoke up. John, foreseeing what his flatmate was going to do, listened intently. The others looked at the detective quizzically. Sherlock looked at Ed.

"You've had a traumatic past. Someone very close to you died, I believe - probably your mother, as I can see you've never been fond of your father. You lost an arm and leg, and your brother lost his whole human body and had to be bound to an inanimate object..." Sherlock trailed off. He shook his head, and started again.

"You've also been in search of something, but once you discovered its roots, you were disgusted by it, and so avoided it. Eventually, your brother regained his human body and you your arm, but you still haven't gotten your human leg. You've seen death many times. In order for any of these events to have happened, you must have attempted the impossible."

Ed and Al looked at him in shock. Winry just gasped.

"Yeah..." John smiled, "He's the only consulting detective in the world. He could tell a pilot by his left thumb and a software designer by his tie. So he deduces things about people someti-"

"How did you know all that?!" Ed demanded.

"I observe." Sherlock said simply. "Quite easy, no one else does it because they overlook the important details."

"What did you mean by 'attempting the impossible'?" John asked.

Ed stiffened, and there was silence. Then, to everyone's surprise, Al started to talk.

"A few years ago, when we were younger, you were right, we did attempt the impossible. Our mother had d-died of a terrible sickness and we wanted her back. We missed her. So we tried... we attempted..."

"Human Transmutation." Ed supplied grimly. Seeing John and Sherlock's puzzled expressions, he continued. "We tried to bring our mother back, using alchemy. It was never going to work."

"Sorry but... what exactly is alchemy?" John asked.

"You don't know what alchemy is?" Winry said incredulously. When John shook his head, he began to explain. "Alchemy is just the art of manipulating and altering matter by using natural energy. For example, you could use a kilogram of metal and turn it into a spear. The spear would have to weigh only one kilogram though, not more, not less. There's the Law of Equivalent Exchange for that, but Ed and Al would be able to explain it better than me. If you don't know what it is," she paused, "then where do you come from?"

"London." John answered promptly.

The three friends stared at him, bemused. "Is that in Amestris?"

"Where is Amestris?" Sherlock asked.

"It's where you are now." Al said. "This is Resembool, a countryside area in Amestris."

Sherlock and John looked at each other quickly, but with the same thought running through their heads. Panic.

"Oh, great..." John laughed weakly. "This is great... we're not even on Planet Earth anymore..."

Ed looked up sharply. "Did you just say Earth?"

Sherlock nodded. "That's where we come from. You've been there, haven't you?"

"Yes. I ended up in Germany for a short time. In Berlin."

Sherlock nodded again. "London is in the United Kingdom. It's the capital. In the same continent as Germany."

"Is your world big?" Al asked, fascinated.

John grinned at him. "It's absolutely massive. There are one hundred and ninety-six countries and seven continents, and that's not even counting the oceans."

Al simply gaped.

John grinned some more. And then yawned.

"We should sleep." Sherlock announced, immediately noticing John's yawn. "The parallel-world travelling was exhausting, and it's dark. Would you mind keeping us for a few days? Just until we can get back to London?"

"Of course." Al replied eagerly. He wanted to know more about this... Earth. "There's two spare rooms upstairs."

"Cheers." John thanked them gratefully, and then he and Sherlock climbed the stairs to the landing above.

Winry, Al and Ed simply looked at each other and burst out laughing.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought!**


	2. A Wild Mycroft appeared!

"G'morning Al." John greeted the younger boy as he ambled into the kitchen, yawning.

"Morning," Al replied. "Where's Sherlock?"

"I think he went out," John shrugged. "Probably to get some fingers or toes to experiment on or something."

"Ah, okay... wait what?!"

John grinned sheepishly. "He has a PhD in Chemistry. Plus he's a consulting detective who deals with murderers, serial killers, psychopaths, the lot. It would be normal for him to-"

"Oh, for _God's _sake!" The front door slammed open, and there stood Sherlock fuming like an angry bull.

"What's going on?" Winry and Ed peered around the doorway to the dining room with confused looks.

"This." Sherlock hissed. He pulled out his mobile and showed the four the screen. Two texts were on display:

_Hello, brother dear! How are you enjoying Amestris? And the Fullmetal Alchemist's alchemy? I did think you'd be interested by it. – MH [sent at 9:32 AM]_

_I will be calling on you shortly, with your and John's personal possessions. – MH [sent at 9:33 AM]_

"...Ah." John sighed. I guess he would've known from the start."

"It doesn't give him a right to act as if it's nothing!" Sherlock seethed.

"What _is _that?" Ed asked, intrigued. "And who was talking about me there?"

"What, this?" Sherlock pointed to the phone. Ed nodded. "It's called a mobile phone. We use it to phone other people, text them – which, by the way, is just like telegrams but faster – check the time and much more that I won't go into. They're rather like those telephones," he gestured to the old telephone on the desk, "but more... versatile."

"Wow," Winry breathed. "Your world is very advanced."

Sherlock shrugged. "We had an Industrial Revolution in the late 1800's. That was what sparked most of these inventions."

"Wait," Al began. "You said '1800s' as if it was centuries ago."

"Well, it was." John said, surprised. "About two centuries ago, in fact."

Ed, Al and Winry froze. "We're in the year 1918. That's not two centuries..." Al murmured quietly.

"Last time I checked, it was 2010." Sherlock remarked.

"Unless we've been deceived our entire lives." John laughed. "This is quite fun though, I've always wanted to see what 1918 was l-"

John was interrupted by the doorbell ringing three times.

"I never get to finish my sentences." John sighed.

"It's Mycroft." Sherlock muttered darkly.

"Is Mycroft... the one who texted you? Your brother?" Ed asked quickly.

"I wish he wasn't." Sherlock growled, and flung himself into a nearby armchair, sulking.

At that moment, Mycroft Holmes swept with a dignified air about him into the room. His black umbrella was once again at his side. The army doctor wandered if it ever left him.

"Ah, Dr Watson. Pleased to meet you once again." The older man extended his hand, which John reluctantly shook.

"Good morning, Miss Rockbell." Winry didn't have time to question how he knew her name before he turned to Ed and Al.

"You two are the Elric brothers, I presume?" When Ed and Al simply nodded, he continued. "I have heard great things about you. Alchemy is not something we are accustomed to on Earth. Which is one of the reasons why I have sent my brother here."

"Oh, so it was you who sent us here?" Sherlock snarled.

"Not exactly. It was one of my assistants." Mycroft replied calmly. "I wasn't perturbed by her idea, though. I rather hope you will... gain something from Amestris, brother dear."

"What could I possibly gain from here?" Sherlock asked icily.

"You'll see," was all he got. "I did bring your possessions, as I promised." Mycroft handed Sherlock his violin, his microscope and deerstalker, and John his laptop and a bag of spare clothes for the two of them.

"Just so we know... how long are we staying here?" John muttered.

"Oh, a few months. A year at the most." Mycroft waved his hand airily. "Good day to you all."

As he left, Sherlock played a tune on his violin that plainly stated 'I hate you Mycroft, please die.'

John sunk into another armchair, and picked his laptop. He immediately thought of his blog. "Does Amestris have Wi-Fi?" he wondered out loud.

"What's that?" Al pointed to his laptop. "And what's Wi-Fi?"

Chuckling, John began to explain.

* * *

**All reviews are welcome, especially constructive criticism. Next chapter will begin the short stories and a little bit of... Ed rage, should I say? Hehe xD**


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